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They get that ramen, after all. Just the two of them.
One of Reigen’s favorite ramen places is nearby, a little hole-in-the-wall filled with a heavy smell of broth and a loud sizzling of gyoza hitting the pan. It's not glamorous, but it's definitely cheap.
They're halfway through their meal, and they've already shed their jackets, encouraged by the stifling heat of the ramen shop. The moment Reigen had seen the flush rising on Serizawa’s face, he tossed his gray suit jacket on the next barstool with loud noises of relief worthy of a samurai getting rid of their blood-splattered armor right after the battle. It was enough of an invitation for the esper to throw him a grateful glance and quickly follow suit. He then went on to loosen his tie without waiting for permission for once. Reigen’s kinda proud of the guy.
The thing about Serizawa, he mulls while chewing on his chashu and trying not to steal sidelong glances at his newest employee, is that he catches up startlingly quickly, especially for someone with his baggage. It’s not bad, far from it, but it’s the kind of surprising that makes Reigen stop and think twice, and that’s never a good thing, especially in their line of work. He’s used to dealing with curveballs, but he can’t afford to feel slightly untethered every time Serizawa makes an astute observation or melts a ghost without batting an eye, right after panicking over a broken fountain pen. Today’s job left Reigen with some questions, and while he's been sitting on them pretty patiently, enough is enough. He deserves a medal, a cash prize, and some answers.
In lieu of a preamble, he slurps on his noodles dramatically. Serizawa knows him well enough by now to throw him a questioning glance from over his own bowl.
“Say, Serizawa”, he garbles through a mouthful of food. He's maybe being a little too obnoxious on purpose, but he can't help it, not pinned under Serizawa's dark and gentle gaze. It’s a bit similar to being watched by Mob, but also completely different, and Reigen is yet to pinpoint why.
See? Untethered. He swallows.
“Those were some crazy moves you were pulling back there”. His chopsticks spin wildly through the air, only to point right at his employee. “What gives?”
“What do you mean, Reigen-san?”
Reigen's been trying to get rid of the honorific since week number three of Serizawa working for Spirits and Such. It's week six now. Not that anyone's counting.
“What I mean is where did you learn to fight like that? The jumps, the cards, the backflips, it was all pretty”, impressive, a little voice in his mind whispers helpfully. “Ambitious”. There. “I didn't take you for an athlete”.
He’s seen his fair share of psychics kicking the crap out of each other. With kids, like Mob or Hanazawa, he's come to see their supernatural speed, strength, and agility as an extension of their telekinetic abilities and young age, but he knows that not all espers are that hands-on. Maybe their first meeting left too much of an impression on Reigen, with Serizawa acting more like a shield than anything else, but he has to admit he didn’t expect his nervous subordinate of all people to be this good in a direct hand-to-hand fight.
Or this much of a show-off. The business cards sword was kinda dorky, but Reigen himself is a nerd enough at heart to admit that it was also pretty cool.
Serizawa chews thoughtfully. He swallows and hums, a low, pleasant sound.
“It's different for espers,” he says finally. “We are made to endure our own powers. Gravity, mass, speed – the physics work in our favor. We can bend them a little." He shrugs a bit stiffly, as if unaccustomed to the movement. "It's easier to do a backflip if you can always catch yourself with your mind.”
Reigen nods. That makes sense. He's seen Mob fight, and it's worlds different from what the kid can achieve with his body alone.
“Ah, but you probably already know all about that, don't you, Reigen-san?” Serizawa looks straight into his bowl as he brings it up to his lips to sip at the broth.
Reigen stares. He can't be sure, but he thinks he sees a shadow of a smile on Serizawa's face, something about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners. A reminder that, in stark contrast to his other employee, Serizawa is decidedly not fourteen hits him like a freight train.
He opens his mouth to start spinning his usual tale about the multitude of subtle and complex differences between psychic and spiritual powers, when Serizawa lowers the bowl and continues:
“Besides, I used to be a bodyguard. My job for the past three years was to annihilate any and all threats.” His empty bowl makes a hollow sound, as it returns to the counter. The shadows on his face grow darker in the dim light of the setting sun coming through the window. “I'm not proud of it, but this has been my entire work experience so far.”
He looks down at his own flexing hands. Reigen’s eyes follow. Serizawa’s hands are big, like the rest of him. While Reigen usually sees them grip each other nervously or carefully pour a cup of tea, he has no illusion as to what kind of violent feats they might have performed in the past under the watchful tutelage of one Suzuki Toichiro.
Also, he’s talked to Joseph. The guy definitely holds a grudge, but who wouldn’t after, apparently, getting thrown out the window.
Serizawa’s hands close into fists.
“And I was quite good at it. I think. Suzuki-sha—Suzuki would have let me know if that hadn't been the case." He sighs wistfully. "Come to think of it, fighting might be the only thing I am just about capable of doing". He looks up at Reigen and his gaze is sad.
The conman finds himself floundering a little again. The last few weeks have been an exercise in realizing that Serizawa’s a full-grown man. The weight of his problems is sometimes a different caliber to what Reigen’s used to with Mob and the other kids, no matter how hard he likes to pretend otherwise.
His hand lands on Serizawa’s shoulder in a somewhat forceful friendly clap. He refuses to let himself get distracted by how sturdy it feels under his palm.
“Don't fret over it.” He gives Serizawa his most winning smile – the one that’s so confident, it borders on smug. It never fails to convince teenagers and old ladies alike that whatever he’s about to say next, he’s absolutely right.
Apart from Ritsu, but he could offer that kid a free cake and still only get a scowl and a muffled slur in return, so.
“You might have done some questionable things in the past, but you mustn’t let them define you.” His hands start dancing in the air. “You've already greatly improved your life, and you will continue to do so if you don't lose your focus and keep working hard – especially if you’ll stay with the Spirits and Such Consultation Office!” His index finger ends up pointing straight up. "Helping people is literally the company line. The customer's health, safety, and happiness always come first".
The esper doesn’t look up from his empty bowl. Reigen deflates slightly and lowers his hands.
“Besides,” he adds, a little quieter, “bodyguard is a pretty noble profession, you know. It’s not about violence. It’s about protecting people.” Now Serizawa chooses to look at him. Great. Immediately, he starts sweating, but he doesn’t let that deter him. This is important. “You’ve gained some skills in your last job, and that’s okay. They’re just tools. Now it’s all about how you wield them”. He takes a deep breath and looks away. “You used them to save my life.” He laughs nervously. “I won’t hear you talk badly about them.”
“I'm glad to have them then.” He looks up. Serizawa is smiling. It’s a very nice smile, sincere and surprisingly steady, like the man himself. There’s that feeling again of losing contact with the ground for a second. It’s a little scary and makes his heart skip a beat. Reigen massages his chest absentmindedly.
He should have stuck to hiring middle schoolers.